Mother always called me the devil child
She said I was  loud, destructive and wild

Parents told sister I was bad and she didn't ever have to play with me
Much time alone was no fun, however for some friends I did make a plea

I'd beg for my mothers attention, she'd run off to her room crying,
Yelled for my dad to come get me, because to her I was very trying

I heard my mother double dog dare my father to hit me
Mother would refer to me as a **** in front of the family

When I was very young mother once said “I will ****** you in cold blood”
Today mother said “you’re crazy, I’d never say that to a child, you are crud”

Nothing I did would ever please my mother
Gifts I bought her were tossed in the gutter

All my cousins were smart, while I was failing all my classes in school
Got into many fights with bullies and teachers who were always cruel

My family would all make fun of me, call names bully and teased
I was the loser that anyone could do or say what they pleased

None of my cousins was I ever allowed with to play
Was always much of the time alone every and all day

I lived in a strange way my dad was very to the T religious
And my mother was always drunk and of course blameless

She’d drink when home from work, on the weekends or holidays
And could always hide it from all her friends and the relatives

No one believed me when I told them that she had been drinking
They acted like I was crazy by then I knew what they were thinking

Mother took me out Friday's to eat and buy what I wanted, after work
Last stop, the liquor store for drink and smoke, was left in car like a ****

Mother would always drive with me while she was drunk
I knew she'd been drinking because she smelled like a skunk

Bought games that took two to play, parents never had any intention  
Of spending time with me, I was a bad child needing intervention

If I didn’t act a certain way when opening all my very expensive Christmas gifts
She’d pout, leave, and I’d have to open my gifts alone because I’d created a rift

Wasn't  perfect I admit;  ran off when 16 regret parents sent me away,
Came for counseling I complained about moms drinking, she felt angry

Said drinking not my problem, she’d return when I could face the truth
Never could admit wrongdoing, everything was because I was a youth

Home from school one day mom was passed out on  floor drunk
Called 911 her Dr blamed me and said no visit,  he called me a punk

My dad arrived home, find she was throwing up while passed out in bed
He'd take bowls put them near her mouth to catch it,  something I'd dread

He’d walk to the bathroom, empty the bowl and go back to get the next one to do the very same
And replace the unfilled one repeat the process.  I was told by her doctor that I was the blame

Sometimes mom would run down the hall to the toilet bowl throw up then my heart would race
Because I always knew mom would do this and then she’d come to room to scare rant and pace

Since I was a badly spoiled child who had parents with money, nice house cars and good jobs
And I was not willing to help out or be responsible, was told I made the family look like slobs

My sister let her boyfriend talk her into letting him take me to dentist, instead, he molested me
No one believed me because in the past I had lied about things, and the truth no one would see

I was different all the cousins, my aunts and uncle could blame me when things went missing
Or went wrong I was then and still am now the perfect scapegoat yes about it I’m still babbling

My father ran out the back door when he heard me wake up and come out of my room
So he didn't have to  bother with me, I wanted to spend time with him he’d assume

Somehow I managed to graduate from high school and I then would move
To a different city, I felt I might have better luck and my life would improve.

Married two very bad guys both who drank, beat me and verbally abused
Divorced them both and had one child and how I’d raise this child alone I was confused.

Moved into an apartment I still today about it rave
Mother always referred to it as a little dark damp cave

Things I wanted my mother to do with me she would say no
But wouldn't turn down a chance with other family to go

But this home where I've written articles, poetry that's been published
Most of the things I've written, mother has said they are mostly *******

Tried to work and go to school never was competent enough to follow through
Each time I would start either I did not have the ability to complete anything new

My daughter grew up, became ill with a repeating debilitating disease
I dedicated myself to getting her well, and nothing about it was a breeze

Had to take her in pain for doctor visits many times she’d cry and wished she were dead
This broke my heart with no family help, just her and I to face things in the years ahead

Unable to attend school for years, the doctor signed permission to stay home
School system assigned a teacher who was mean nothing about her was tome

School Social workers interfered
And my name they smeared

She finally one day went into remission
And now the Nephrotic kidney condition

Seems, for now, to have forever gone for good away
For years it’s been don’t want others to downplay

For a while, I home schooled her and the first semester back in the public school
She was on the honor roll things seemed to be looking up and I felt like I was the rule

Then one day she lost interest in classes, homework, and attending
And the principal of the high school was calling and threatening

Took her out of school and put her in to get her GED
Then  she was soon graduated within month of three

A year before she was supposed to graduate
I knew by then that I was doing things right

Enrolled me and her in community college we made the Dean’s list and no student loan debt
Last May she and I graduated have a new life now I don’t feel things in my life are a threat

Alone I’ve raised a good child, published a book and kept things together
I’ve published some poetry and stories in that will be on web pages forever

Even though my parents have helped me out once in a while financially
I feel lack of respect since they helped family who treated me crummy

I’m still feeling and have most of the hopeless thoughts when I was young
I still try to steer my daughter to be different from me and hold my tongue

Sister divorced husband for molesting children told kids I was bad
Lives in my town and over 20 years never talked, by her, I've been had

I think it's because my parents never would face reality or admit
To any wrong doing of years of abuse, something I couldn't forget

Mother has disowned me going to court to remove my name
Because she said I've caused her embarrassment and shame

I'm damaged goods, only go to doctor and for groceries to shop
I hide inside and on computer, write stories and poems till I drop

Why am I talking about this after all these years still?
Because I think that it may just possibly help me to heal

Looking back I find so many things have not been my fault
But I still feel many days like I'm the only one under assault.

Copyright 2013
All Rights Reserved

“My sole goal in life is to keep racing
down the interstate without a clock
so I can keep going until people forget who I am.”
In my head I knew I was wrong
hypocritical, insane, illogical, but above all I was still
humane!
This, yes, this sole fact is what keeps me
separated from you
draw a straight line down the road we lived on
the squares and the circles.

You, with your fancy plaque and NHS bumper sticker
With the family of four and no reason to feel failure
With your perfect scores and magnificent vernacular
Who let you have it so easy?!

Me, with my Jimi Hendrix poster
family of who knows how many
and the chance to earn my GED in a few years
Why was it me?!

You met your wife in the 10th grade
You gave her a promise ring and everything
Even took her with you on spring break
Who said you didn't have to try?!

I was placed in the wards that year
they said it was insanity
I thought I was just thinking ahead
Why can’t they understand?!

BUT THEY ALWAYS UNDERSTAND YOU!

You, your Shakespeare perfect jargon
Mr. Right, Perfect, next coming of Beethoven
You were made to please everyone and become important!

And that’s what separates us.
Even though it’s the same street that raised us
I bought the Harley and your parents got you the Chevy.
And I recall the one time I was flying down the interstate
And caught up to you as you were going nothing higher than 70.
I stared at you and you kept your eyes on the road.
I don’t blame you, I knew that you just wanted to see my bomber jacket
I have a skull on fire on the back of it
So I gave you a great view
hope you enjoyed it.

Sittin at my desk wrestin with casas testers it’s a mess in the west when they express they hate these tests I rest my head on the desk and try to take a nap, restless sleep as my guests are blessed with criminal success and some failure see they are in jail and your gonna meet me if you leave the streets and catch a rap maybe packin a strap thinkin you all that it’s a trap like chicky saying its your baby actin lazy head all hazey bout to go crazy but instead you head to the jail cell cant afford bail whinning and wailing set you mind sailing quit flailing and failing let jail bring you educational singing graduation bells ringing mamma bringing baby sister to the shindig, it’s a win win better community orientation with a chance at employment despite a conviction let go the friction its just a decision and I am given you the chance to start liven …..

Chapter five


November 18th. 1987



As part of my recovery therapy; I’m being urged to get my GED.  So on Wednesdays I’d come here to the Long Island Consultation; it feels funny coming here and being with a whole bunch of kids who are here to get help with their homework. Months of working on re-learning working through this GED-Prep Assessments and Practice-Test Textbook and with months of so much of going to my groups and individual appointments trying to gain back some sense of stability… working on much of what’s been; and trying to provide a decent life for Joe and Annamarie?! I had full hands; I worked when I was up to it and I’d try to find a place beyond this emptiness which is my life, now.
Finally in November of 87’, I go down to take the test. But, when I get there I’m told I wasn’t allowed to take the test!? They told me that the Birth-Certificate I have is invalid; they tell me, “The child of this certificate was never given a name; There’s no way to verify just who this Certificate belongs?!”
Stunned, I go into the city to 125 Worth Street to order a new copy of my birth certificate which I was sure would be fine and would have my name in the front;  the one I have did have a stamp on the back from the board of health in Jamaica with my name handwritten on it?! I had the number from off of my original and the person at the counter hands me my new certificate; I look down onto the paper and there in bold print is my real first name…, Female; my name is Female Rose, my date of birth is correct??? And, my parent’s names are where parent’s names belong??? But me…; how appropriate I never felt much more than… and here’s proof!? I am nothing more other than female.  I was told if I would like I’d need to get a hold of the vault-copy to add a name to it or be Female Rose for the rest of my life?!  It took several trips but January 14th. I had a name on a certificate and made a new appointment for the test and I received my GED in the mail six months later.





May 3rd.1988
    
Entering home; I run straight to my room! … Quickly, put the latch down; I need to hurry… opening the both draws of the captains’ beds. A knife comes through and unhitches the latch and as it does an arm pops through and comes around the door; her hand comes towards me as it pinchesinto my skin the knife falls and she pulls her arm back out and she’s bangs herself upon the door crying?!   I’m safe of her… banging, pushing; if she makes it in… If she gets the door open far enough I will be dead.  
It’s been months since I have had any real sense of safety around her…; she seems always ready to pounce; but, I still have no doubt that little Joe is safe around her; but, this is about to change.
I begin finding letters around the house; these are letters to Joe?! They’re letters of apologies to him; telling him reasons in why she had to **** his mother…  For her, I care to believe, she was unaware she was even doing this…  About why … she perceives me to be… she transfers her thoughts and feeling about her mother onto me?! Her purpose, her reasons… all these desires in having this want to see me gone?   I don’t really understand, nor does it matter …; it matters not, if there’s a danger to the child?!  And, now, there is reason to worry?!
We were waiting for Joe to come home from school.  Annamarie and I were doing the wash and arguing; about something I don’t remember what… but, I must have said something???  Because, suddenly she snaps?!  She begins beating on me?! She’s yelling and biting… She’s calling me Elaine, Mommy and this time she wouldn’t snap out of it?!  She wasn’t going to stop…unless I’m dead on the floor; this time it wasn’t going to end?!  I called Steven; Steven would hang-out with me so he could be close to Annamarie, I call him to get his help; I need help get her to calm-down before Joe comes home and see her this way?!  
Steve arrives but it’s simultaneously with my Joe arriving home and when they both got to my bedroom door… she on top of me on my bed with a knife pressing down hard against my throat, just a split-second more, there would have been a slit and puddle… and it would have been my last breath in this life?!  Joey, yells, Theresa!!!  Dear God in heaven, it snaps her back… Joe’s voice reaches her; the knife falls to the side of my neck it lands beside me on the bed and she runs out and runs into Joe’s room crying. My Joe clutches a hold onto me and I try to tell Joe everything’s alright and…  Steve begins yelling at me “Whatever this is happening here; what ever made her act this way… It has to be something you did?! “

I brought the letters to the courthouse;
After that day I had to go to the court and get an order of protection; I told Annamarie there is no way life can continue this way and we could no-longer live under the same roof anymore?!  Telling her,” You could have the choice of staying here in this house and I’d move out … You could find a new place and I’ll compensate your rent; and, there’s no problems, no worries, you won’t lose time with Joe. But, this life the way it is must change?!  I will pay your rent and you can have Joe here while I’m not home all of this is just about you and I not being able to stay in the same home together.
At first she says she would like to find a place of her own… I was rather proud of her doing this on her own; weeks pass and then she tells me she hadn’t looked and I could leave instead?! I told her, “No; we already told Joe he would keep his room and he wasn’t going to have to move to a new place?! I won’t be the one moving! You had the choice now that’s it you go!  


I sent Joe out to a camp for four weeks through The Fresh Air Fund.  My sister moves her stuff out taking all but Joe’s bedroom set and half of his toys other than these things it was an empty apt. Oh yeah, she does leave a bed for me; it’s an old GI.Special military cot…I never saw it before but there it is in the kitchen broken?!  And she left this old television-set which I thought she had thrown away months ago when I gave her a new one, it must have been in her hoard down in the basement. Not one thing was left in the basement?  I hope she found a good place; I can’t see any place could afford on her own where she’ll be fitting the amount of stuff she had pulled out of here?! She refused my help telling me I threw her out for no reason… She says we had no fight the way I said and the only thing that’s happening is I’m throwing her out like garbage???
She doesn’t remember?        
She wouldn’t allow me to know just where it was she lived; so I didn’t let Joe stay with her at first. I thought she lived somewhere on her own; come to find that she moved in with this man which later on she’ll end up marrying. Once I met him… and only when he would come and promise Joe’s return did I give Joe the ok to spend the weekend with her… it was hard.
And once this arrangement began working Annamarie would say I watch Joe while you work… I told her I’d give her half my pay and you could be here or home with Joe whenever I needed to go to work!  Low and behold whenever I had work she wasn’t anywhere to be found!? I’d call her, get no answer?! She forgot and/or wasn’t home, you asked me to watch him? Or, she’d come to the house three hours late and tell me ok go to work now I’m here???
.
I began asking Anne Copland to watch Joe once in a while; I worked seldom. When, I tried to get anyone for babysitting in short order became a one hundred and twenty-five dollar job for one night’s work from 7pm to 7am. a job that nobody wants to take… no reason given just can’t do this for you anymore???   Only one who never stopped this was Ann Copland right next door… but I couldn’t depend on her alone; it wouldn’t be fair to do… she loves Joe but for the most part she’s up there in age and it is hard for her to keep up with a child for long time work? Besides she wouldn’t take the money, and, I need someone that I could call in a moment’s notice. Ann was there when she could… but there are times when she wasn’t up to doing it?!  
It was really hard but we Joe and I made things work; and, we had made our home cozy once more. We brought in furniture and Painted and he was happy to have his mother around. In the springtime Joe had made a backyard garden; he planted so many things herbs, vegetables’ and he even had a long planter growing tall corn! Never got one niblet but Joe truly enjoys gardening! We got a cat… her name’s Crescent, Joe likes cats he is only so good around dogs though he doesn’t dislike them.
My mother comes to town; she and Eddie were over… that cat burrowed a hole beneath the couch into its springs and hid from my mother… never seen Crescent act this way before or since?!
My mother was not impressed with the color my son choose for the walls in my dining-room; it’s the loudest tone of orange one could imagine being able to be created and placed on a wall! And, with the big round white table and the bright red and white chairs and with the artwork that was on the walls?! Let us just say my mother could not eat a thing in that room without needing to toss her cookies; Eddie smirked, when he entered the room, saying, “This would wake a person up!” My mother seemed very surprised by the fact that my house is so well furnished!? She did just come from Annamarie’s and it hadn’t been all that long since she moved out of here… my mother perhaps thought I’d be sitting in the middle of the floor??? And be without food or a dish or a place to eat??? My sister did take everything; but…
At least Eddie says, “The place looks nice!”
I never seen a woman so disappointed?! I rather think she’d been way happier if she found the house empty of anything good and the two of us living in squalor?!  Do not get this wrong, not for nothing, but I think she was hoping to have me and my son crying out and needing her help. No mother wants to feel completely unneeded!    
Though, I must say, after about two hours my sister and her boyfriend drops-in to bring my mom and Eddie to my Aunt Barbra’s house and Annamarie’s face said it all…; she hadn’t seen the house in a while and she wouldn’t or couldn’t say a word!

I do not know what Annamarie told her mother about why she had moved out?! Of that, it doesn’t matter to me; I only hope life becomes better from here.




March 13th.1989


Well, this is her father, he dies; Annamarie and John, my brother, go to Florida!? My mother calls and offers to pay my way if I want to go with Joe down there… I told her, “He’s not my problem??? I have no wish to go there!”
“Risa; you shouldn’t be like that maybe Joe would want to say goodbye?”  
I thought,’ I’m sure he would have four years ago when it was instead of “See you in the morning, monkey!”??? Now, what? We should spend money to go plant the man???’; “No thank you mom Joe has school; which is too important! Besides that… like I just finished saying, he’s not my problem!”
“You know he’s your father; you may regret not going some day?!”
“I very-much-doubt-it!”  I look to the phone as if it just turned into a turnip???” Mom, keep your money; it’s not happening!”
“But…”
“Mom… We both know better?! I do thank you but no; Not going!”

When John and Annamarie returned to New York she was cruising off the deep-end??? She kept seeing him floating around calling to her to go with him; if we weren’t watching her she probably would have walked off the earth; poor girl’s hallucinating…  
“Daddy’s floating over there; don’t you see him? He has no eyes!  He needs me to help him to get around!”
His eyes were given to the eye-bank?! And, this little churp-bird is…
“Annamarie; He doesn’t need your help; his being he is so you can know he doesn’t need you? He can see even without eyes now!”
“No, He needs me!?”
“Annamarie, how did Daddy get, all the way, up here from Florida?  How could he without his eyes if he needed them to see? ”
It took her awhile before she stops acting so lost; there were a few times when Joe was out with her when the poor kid had to help the two of them find their way home; Joe wouldn’t go out with her alone again for a very long time. Joe would always ask her if his Uncle Al was going to be with them. Poor kid has aspersers’ and he has to watch-out for his Aunt?!

The first thing that you forget, when you stop talking to someone is the sound of their voice.
So I suggest with every voicemail you receive, save it.
Whether it be from your grandma or your aunt or your boyfriend
You'll miss them sooner or later if they leave you.
When It's a healthy time for you, and you miss them a lot,
You'll still have their voice.
The way they spoke, every lisp every stutter
You'll hear it in that old voicemail.

I once loved a boy.
Some know most of  the story, some only know half
But only he and I know every end and out of that year and a half.
I still have his voicemails,
but they aren't only the happy ones.
Matter of fact, he only left me a voicemail when he was angry or when he had news he couldn't keep to himself long enough.
I deleted the happy ones after we broke up.

But I didn't do it because I was angry,
I did it because I wasn't worthy.
And yet, they're still in my trash bin waiting, ready to be recovered.

Because some days, I wonder if he's happy.
Then I'll hear his voicemail telling me he got his GED.
And it was because of me.
Because some days I wonder if he misses me
Then I'll hear his voicemail telling me he loves me and always will

See, I have a problem: I'm a hoarder
I horde voices.
I horde the sound of laughs and cries,
I horde the angry and the happy times.
I take them all and keep them close.
And I try and keep phones for as long as I can.
Because when the phone goes,
So do the voices that I hold dear.

So darling if you wonder if I still have every old voicemail you've ever sent me the answer is clear.
If I miss you, I press my phone to my ear.

But now it's been so long that your voice scares me.
The old voicemails sit and take up my data since I'm too afraid to delete them.
That means your gone forever
And while I may have broken your heart I hope you forgive me
And I hope this voicemail makes you smile.

The day is Monday, March 16th, 2015.
We are in the Idaho State Correctional Institution.
Today, the Idaho Commissioners of Pardons and Parole will decide if my ****** will be released on parole in September.

Many people come in, exchanging their I.D for their visitors' pass.
We all wait in a small L-shaped room, tense, waiting.
His family comes in, and the guard escorts them to another room.
Finally, a parole officer enters. She leads us through a metal detector.
We have to wait in the visiting room, while my ****** is brought into the hearing room.
His family goes in first, then us, along with my supporters.
The deputy calls us to order and explains what will happen.
He says his family may speak, if they have a statement.

She stands up.
"Your relation?"
"Mother."
"Go ahead."

He has managed to get his GED.
He has had his own struggles with other inmates.
He is a "good Christian boy."
He has served his time for his "non-violent crime."
I cry.

The deputy looks doubtful.
He tells the commissioners to begin.

Commissioner Bowstaff is first.
She asks him the nature of his crime, his five DORS, his lost job while inside.
She asks if he is aware of the recommendation they received.
He says yes.
She phrases her next thought carefully:
"Are you aware the interviewer described you as aloof, uncaring, and says you describe yourself as the victim?"
He seems befuddled.

Next is Commissioner Matthew.
He is a sharp looking man, and asks if he feels like his crime is "violent."
He responds.
"No."
"And yet you call yourself Christian?"
"I am Christian."
"God should be ashamed then."
His parents are shaking their heads.

Commissioner Moore.
"You minimize everything. You aren't taking responsibilities for your actions. If you can't follow the rules in here, how do we know you'll follow them out there?"
"I don't know."

Commissioner Bowstaff asks if, as the victim, I have anything to say.
I tell her yes, and she asks me to stand and state my name.
"Lauren Busdon."
"You have a minute to speak."

I tell them I am terrified to see him.
I will start my senior year in August.
His release will continue to effect my school career.
I have only just managed to speak the word "****" in the last two months.
There are other girls, so many others, who are afraid to say anything.
But they say it to me.

They dismiss us to make their decision.
I sob as we walk out of the room.

Everyone is proud of me, saying no matter what, I did my best. I was there, that's what matters now.
But what if it wasn't enough?

The deputy comes in to shake my hand.
"The commissioners have come to an agreement. Parole will be denied for 18 months, and we will meet again in September of 2016."
I laugh and my dad slams his fist on the table. My mom dissolves into tears.
"You are welcome to hear the announcement."
I say, "hell yeah I want to hear it!"

He hangs his head when they tell him.
His mother makes a strangled noise of upset.

We leave.
People are hugging me.
I am crying.
I don't know if I should be proud, or if I should just revel in the sheer joy of not having to see him for 18 months.
18 more months of freedom.
18 more months of trying to live.

Lee was posted up in in usual spot
back by the stacks,
with his phone on life support.
Its umbilical cord was knotted up like a nest,
and held together by electrical tape.

It sat next to his vape
box and a stack of books
about the GED, twenty-fist century
side hustles and back issues of Ebony.

People come in and out of the library
and everyone says hi to Lee,
He is the man to see,
He asks about their lives and gives sage advice –
How you been, my man?
How’s the kids doin’, girl?
How’s married life treatin’ you, my dude?

My man, you gotta do this.
Babygirl, look into that.
Don’t wear your hat like that,
Boy, ya look silly.

Lee lives in a van
that he parks nearby
so he can job-hunt on the free wifi
even when the place is closed.

If you feel sorry for me, don’t
says Lee
I’m the freest now I’ll ever be,
so, don’t you dare take pity on me
I’m doing all I can do,
being all I can be.

Everything’s  temporary.
Tomorrow I could be you,
you could be me
we’re just one bad day,
one scratch-off lottery ticket away
from swapping places, my man.

Yeah, I live in that van
parked outside the library
but if you think I’m sad,
you’re thinking wrong,

Won’t see me moping, or doping
floating along
you won’t see me frowning,
or drowning,
singing a sad song.

I’m happy with all that I got
who wouldn’t wanna be in my spot,
I’m The King
of the Library Parking Lot.

The HUM-BUZZIN' 0f a newspaper flywheel-press
What jarred up BUZZIN' slanders will these stories hold?
On Newspaper traps where tortured minds are stuck and sold!
Where lowered human beings are treated less

On almost every city corner news is sought
Those ugly outhouse lookin' shacks disperse,
Smelly rotten things not found in beauty verse
The sensation of broken wing-ged offical caught

Garbage boy, toss my garbage at my door,
maggot level I will bend,
And claw-fetch the news of bitter end
And saaaavoooor the nasty things in store

I have a few words to say about this bullying that is going on in school's these days. So here goes.

Hello my name is Jesse Packard I am 21 and I was bullied everyday in school and in my regular life. I was in a deep dark time in my life while in school cause I had one friend and everyone... And I mean EVERYONE picked on me because I was short and I was a special needs child. I found that the only thing that would make life better was to **** myself and just leave my loved ones. So I tried but every time I tried all I could see was my family.

At school most of the kids hit me and most of the teachers said horrible things about me. Like how I was going to be nothing and I was gay, and how my family didn't even care that I was alive. I got tired of it and I told a teacher that if he told me I was " to ******* ******* to get my GED" one more time that he would not like the outcome. The next day in first period he walked up to me and said it again. So what did I do I let my anger get to me and I decked him in the face and broke his nose. I then walked out of the school told them all to go to hell. My parents were mad but I told them what happened and my dad hugged me and told me he was proud of me for the first time in my life.

Look at me now I have my GED and I have the job I have been dreaming of. To say that bullying was a good thing I can't do but if it wasn't for it I would not have strived so hard to show everyone that I was going to do what I said I was going to do. I love my family, and most importantly I love my gf and my 5 month old baby boy. I will keep on striving to make an amazing life for my boy and my girl. I will sacrifice all just to know that they are doing well. And my dad told me he was proud of me for the second time when my boy was born. I will never stop giving to my family and I will love them.

I have done everything for my girl and baby boy because I never thought that my love for her and him would knock away all the pain from being bullied in school. I know that this is the girl that I'm going to marry because make me feel like I am enough and nothing less. So if you are being bullied please send me a Private message if you would like to talk about it with a person who knows exactly how you feel.

Woop As the siren blares/

Scared nervous/
I hear a loud pull over!/

Its the Grammar Police/
awwww snap
They want to see my diploma/

I keep my hand on the pen
Like I don't even notice/

In my window of opportunity
Asking/

Son Do you know why I pulled you over?/
Cause I'm in the office
sir writing these poems?/

I take full responsibility
I don't got no diploma
I just got this GED/

He said that's not good enough
Put down the pen son
Your coming with me/

Now there's Turmoil thru the streets
drama around every corner/

There should be no commas
Period I question marked your honor/

Butchering with clevers
run on sentences for ever/

The alphabet guys set up
Planted evidence missing letters/

Sworn I had it down to a T
The I before E
how does that go?/

Well don't look now
I done broke another law/

How ever this may trouble you
I keep my vowels sometimes Y & W/

Somethings not write I'm reeling feeling uncomfortable/

Is it me?
Well don't you see/
A fused two V's?/

That's my story
I'm sticking to it
my testimony/

Yet we speak it double U/
confused by another rule/

They label me an outlaw
In the middle of the court room/

A mystery/ A victim being pursued/ by the Grammar police/

The jury siding with the prosecution
I may never be released/

Its Invictus/
The defense rest
Now they have an eye-witness/

With an eye on who did this/

There,     their,      they're,      hair,     heir      and..... here/

The Ironies in the rule book/
similar sounding confused look/

If i where to spoke this and not
wrote this you would have not notice/

No no Input
was it done on purpose?/
For a purpose?/

One things for certain/

If l lay dying dead in the street
It's cause you took shots at me

Just remember I wasn't perfect/

But you are the grammar police
Just doing your job I know working/

But
Love hung on a tree
Bruised body
blood flowed
Love died for my shame

Love didn't look at skin or color
Love didn't look at nationality,
legality
Love look at souls
and said we're brothers
Blood flowed
for every nation,
tribe and
tongue

But we've forgotten.

And now
the prophets of the streets
crying like Pentecostal priests
Beating chests and
stomping feet
Begging
those choosing blindness
to see

See our pain
Feel our fury
Our righteous anger
rages
against injustices you pretend can
remain unseen

You were born with this freedom
to close your eyes
We were born into a world
stabbing us from behind

So don't
bring your Bibles,
shove your tracts
drag us down aisles
You weren't here from the beginning
Fighting to break chains and
set captives free

"We have nothing to lose but our chains"

Our battle cry is freedom
justice,
equality for all
Jew and Gentile
Slave and free
Now the verses can read
Black and white
Upper class and lower
College educated, GED

You know, He's crying with us
shouting, marching
Beating chest and
stomping feet

Don't think you're bringing Jesus to us
He's already here,
on the streets
Prophecy of protests
Righteous rage against
iniquity
Jesus, the revolutionary

God with us
On the ground with us

Love doesn't look at
skin or color
And love hung from
a tree

It is our duty to fight for our freedom
Love has already won the day

And we have nothing to lose but our chains
We will fight to lose our chains

fromabove
       itleaves
         youbreath-
less:
suspended

on the
             edges
           of theknown
           world aren't stars        
        cavingoutand
      in
but rather:

tree
tops;

    mountain
val - leys,
         jag-
    ged

cliffs

pegged.
eversoslightly
to the
earth

be-
   low.

    you.

This is what it feels like
on the days that feel like
lonely summer nights without you.

I wake groggily to the rays of light
seeping through your cupped hands
that play peek-a-boo with my broken windowsill.
The wind exhales chills down my spine
that inhale me to into the mattress
until midafternoon
when I can finally gasp for a drink.
When I’ve had my fill of toxins,
I can poison people in the hallways of my complex
with venomous small talk that produces
half glazed stare simplicity.
You know the one I’m talking about;
the kind of look that hangs on people
thinking about what to say
while you’re going on about
some nonsense you heard at
some place from
some pretty person.
They have a certain finish over their attention
that doesn’t quite compare to the varnish of your absence.

This is what it feels like
when summer rolls over the hills
like the ongoing thread of my oversized sweaters
on seventy-degree days
because I was always a little too good
at playing hide and seek growing up.

I feel like I get stuck in a loop sometimes.

I heard
somewhere from
some pretty person that
children don’t see scars on adults
because those people
never quite make it past getting their GED,
but here I am as an undergraduate student
mocking what little authority is left over my existence.
At the age of nineteen,
I understand that solitude is the most fulfilling companionship
I will ever browse for,
but I’ll never be able to buy us matching necklaces
at self checkout.

This is what it feels like
to cry in the middle of the day
when you haven’t paid the water bill in two months.
When I put my clothes on,
you aren’t there to watch me leave anymore
and I can’t turn around to grab your neck
and mount you again.
My lips started parting for a cigarette
when I was sixteen
and started parting for you
when I was eighteen
and now they are parting for a finger gun
aimed at the back of my throat after a meal.

I feel like I get stuck in a loop sometimes.

I heard
somewhere from
some pretty person that
I needed to be a size zero
to wrap my legs around you
and still be able to leave some room
for your opposition
when I’ve drank too much whiskey
on a Wednesday night,
but here I am as a size six
and I’m happily tipsy off your rejection
when I’m sober.

This is what it feels like
to exist off of your own
self-destruction.

I was scared
We we're talking about
What-if's
And those
Can be pretty scary
My mind
It fluttered
And the image
Later emerged
The test came out positive
We were gonna be parents
But we're too young
My body aches
From the baby
And the fear
I can't tell
I cannot
Successfully
Finish school
Go to college
Raise this little baby
Cannot afford it neither
If you stay
You'll flunk
Find some ****** job
We'll be in a rough spot
And it won't change
The only
Good thing
Is we might be able
To marry sooner
But your mom will
Kick you out
My mom
Call me *****
But come to accept it
I know she'll cry herself
To sleep so many nights
So will I
But before I tell
I'd cut
My arms
So ruined
****** and scarred
My mom will bring me
Back to the hospital
And she'll ask
Why
Why did I do this
And I whisper
I'm pregnant
And I'll watch
As she realizes
How much
I just ****** up my life
Things get better
I guess
I'm behind in school
You got your GED
I come home each day
And watch our child
Knowing
I won't see you until
After work
We'll save up
And leave
Start our life
But it won't be easy
I don't know if we'll survive
But I know I need you
Who else would hold me
When I cry
Or when I break
Who else would stay up
To help with our kid
Our life was influenced
By passion
And I know
You'll tell me
It was Gods plan
His gift to us
But I'll just whisper
Haven't we had enough?
Haven't we endured enough hardships?
I already knew
We were meant to be
He didn't need to do this too
Nonetheless we go on
Lower class
But getting by
We're always in love
But sometimes I think
It's only because our child
We make it through
Because life
Knew
We were strong enough
For even this
No matter how scary it was.
What-ifs are scary
I just hope they
Don't come true.

apart at the seams
apart
        at the

yes

me split
ting

stretch of whatever
   wet
blobs     leave
a st     ain

break
ing
cra ck ing

a clay *** in a kiln

pieces of myself
fraz
     zled
myself

coarse
          to touch

making beetroot
   pentagons on thumbs

these rag ged
moments
    
   they cannot be undone
I have not won

they only go
   on

Here's to showing off about football
Here's to thinking cautiously
Here's to candy
Here's to barely knowing the person who sits two seats away
Here's to a sweet tooth that tests limits
Here's to kitties and puppies
Here's to slowing rejecting the seating chart
Here's to a new chart that brings two seats together
Here's to a mutual friend
Here's to black and blonde hair
Here's to math class
Here's to learning
Here's to growing
Here's to October for reducing two seats away to one
Here's to November for closing the gap
Here's to weird animals
Here's to a new group
Here's to the boy who drops out
Here's to getting to receiving his GED
Here's to "I don't want to go homes"
Here's to choir as well
Here's to the weird science teacher who's room is claimed
Here's to awkward conversations that keep life flowing
Here's to boyfriends that lack approval
Here's to moving to a new room
Here's to arguments about Jess and Dean
Here's to Rory and Lorelai
Here's to that phone call at nine pm
Here's to "He wants to take a break"
Here's to "It's mutual" through heavy tears
Here's to friends ready to comfort
Here's to "He's trying to cheat on you"
Here's to "I just broke up with you, that's what happened"
Here's to feeling comfortable again
Here's to pause buttons for God of War
Here's to "He just broke up with me"
Here's to "He's just doesn't feel the same way anymore"
Here's to comfort and to "I hate him"
Here's to wanting to better oneself
Here's to falling short and crawling back
Here's to first fights
Here's to only lasting twenty minutes
Here's to "He blocked me"
Here's to "He's cheating on me"
Here's to not needing him
Here's to the past coming back to haunt you
Here's to being stabbed by someone once called friend
Here's to silence
Here's to "She's so pretty"
Here's to "I love you"
Here's to "No more pining after lame guys"
Here's to seeing that teacher at Goodwill
Here's to days of brokenness
Here's to hope
Here's to the future
Here's to sweet sixteens
Here's to first cars
Here's to reptiles in rainy weather attire
Here's to sassitude
Here's to sasstastic people
Here's to near deaths
Here's to survivals
Here's to first sleepovers
Here's to lunch at that cute Italian bistro nobody knows
Here's to Philly cheesesteaks
Here's to Thai tea
Here's to "When can we do this again"
Here's to nightmares about rejection
Here's to dreams about perspective
Here's to an undying friendship
Here's to an eternity of trust
Here's to many more days
Here's to you
And here's to me,
Cheers,
Your best friend

She sits
And stares
Blank
Turns to the left
Turns to the right
Cold
Alone
No one
There
She sits
And stares
She wants
A warm
She wants
A beat
A heart beat
Warm
Held
Right there
But no
She sits
Alone
And stares
People
Here
People
There
But alone
She sits
And stares
Cross leg-ged
Cold head-ed
All alone
They flit
To the left
They flit
To the right
But no one
Sees her there
She wants
A beat
A heart
Beat
Warm and
Pulsing
There
But alone
She sits
And
Stares
How can
One
With
So many
Others
Be so
All
Alone?
She sits
In a box
A self-made
Box
And revels
In the
Dark
Yearns for
Love
And warmth
And peace
But chooses
Night
Instead

Mass incarceration.
****, I mean institution.
Forced vacation that I can't escape from.
So blessed and stressed, no choice but to blaze on.

Learning those ABC's & 1,2,3's
so I can get my  PhD,
but my mom only needed a ******* GED.
Grades so ******, professor thinks that I want a that D.
But, like *** that GSI is such a QT.

So which one of you liberal *****
do I have to ****
so I'm not ******--
living in the basement working at Starbucks?

Academia has done nothing but convince me
that my mind is empty.
At this point I can't tell if that's a good or bad thing.
Am I forever young and dumb
or is this a temporary vacancy?

Violence, I Don’t Hold Those Rains,
Silence Beside My Eyelids Inside Know My Pain,
Were Just A Number Don’t Own A Name,
Social Security, Tags Sincerely,
Passing Through Earths Plane, Piercing Purity,
I Call My Conscious Kato ,
Cos Andrew Michael Gammons Just A Label,
I’m The Eye Rolling The Die, & The Decision Implied That Lys Upon The Table,
I Am Infinite, Able To Untangle The Tangled,
That Gold Ratio, Element Lighting, Vessica Pieces,
Hyper Space Igniting, Lapse In Time, When Beauty Shines , Love Is Always Present,
A Gift Inside, Of Course Were From The Same Source , That Sprit Light,
That Multiplied, Manifesting Universal Matrix, Some Moments I Feel Foreign , I Face It,
I Am Right Here On Some Real Outer Space ****,
I Feel Out Of Space When, I’m Faced With Low Vibrations,
I’m So ******* High , That’s Why I Can’t Take It,
Shrooms Showed Me Truth In Life Illusions Like Liqour & Ballons, Is Just An Act Of Consume, Prophet
It’s Full Of Aliens, Beautiful Harmonics, Space ships . Healing Onyx,
I’m Neither Humble Nor Modest, I’m Honest, They Key Is Within,
Lying Out Your Chin When You Grin  Got It In Your Pocket,
G.E.D Bleeds Deep Won’t Be Forgotten,
With Shattered Knees By Close Friends That Deceived Claimed They Got Him
You Will Be At The Top Brother Man, Understand They At The Bottom,
What Others Did . Glad No Body Shot Him,
I Really Morph Into A Monster When I’m Feeling Rotten,
At Least Ged Didn’t Turn Away,
Kash You Blamed Me & ******* Burned My Face,
I Am In Galactic Space, Manifesting Amplifying , High Exchange,
Inner Out & Outer, I’ve Just Written My Ritual, Visuals The Perfect Hour,
I’m On My Way To The Mo urge, But Before I Need To Take A Shower,
I Sit Under An Oak Kick It For An Hour,
Embrace The Hearts Of Stars That Wore Torn Apart By Cowards

my sister has always been above me
18 months older,
she's larger than life
a social butterfly fluttering non-stop and here i am, still trying to spin my cocoon

you can hear her laughter from the next room away,
(the next five rooms away, if she's with a friend)
always smiling, groaning about something, or ohmygoshhaveyouseenmyigottago-ing
she's got a mane of hair half her height
her keys jingle jangle on the state university lanyard she wears around her neck
she's always home before 1 am but some nights, she doesn't sleep
other nights, she's out like a light
she was always so good at sleeping

me, i'm short hair don't care
anti-socially awkward
perpetually clenched hands covered in paint most of the time
beat up toms on my feet, ***** glasses on my face
come winter, her forgotten beanie until it's on my head
i phrase things oddly, have a dry wit about me
i keep to myself because i hate the way i sound/look/talk
i have one friend my own age in real life.
the other ones are about 4+ years older or younger than me and our method of communication is typing on screens, thousands of miles away from one another
i prefer this method

today she told me how weird it is that my "real" friends are strangers on the internet "like ten years older than you"
i told her that's as weird as her being friends with guys a year behind me if i were still in high school
she says "ummm i don't know why you can't just socialise normally like a normal person"
she says she doesn't know why i'm so painfully socially inept
i remind her i've been out of school longer than she has and haven't been around anyone other than my doctors and mom for more than a couple awkward minutes in over a year
dramatic sigh "yeah but you like dropped out so that's different"

she's so very lucky she can't see into my mind
she'd be terrified and disgusted by what she'd find there
too many monsters, too many thoughts, too many girls, too many raindrops to pour on her parade

there are so many things she takes for granted like
smiling, laughing, talking normally, not having to stress over whether people will be able to understand her
"just go up to someone and say hi"
yeah sorry, i kind of can't.

one day i decided to wear my dad's old button down shirt and khaki pants
i gelled my hair into spikes, just to see what kind of reaction i'd get if i started dressing to match how i felt about my ****** orientation
"here let me roll up your sleeves it'll look cuter that way"
"ohmygosh you look like a lesbian you need to go change right now"
she was only half wrong
i didn't change.

she's short and muscular while i'm tall and freakishly thin
she's able bodied, athletic as heck and my body is slowly deteriorating but at least my mind is still sharp

when we were kids,
i followed her everywhere
when mom dressed us up alike
i loved it while she hated it
one time we bought matching dresses
i wore mine all summer while hers collected dust in the back of her closet
the next year, i bought it off of her for $4.

before I left school, we took an AP Psych class together
she thought Psych looked so interesting and wanted to major in it
i was in the middle of a downward spiral and just wanted to understand what games my mind was playing on me
my sister memorised and studied hard
i didn't and got a higher score than her
i started missing class, more and more and our teacher asked her where i was
she was too embarrassed to tell him the real answer
in bed, eating about 5 crackers a day, in a cloud of depression, sleeping and wasting away
the kids at school thought i had cancer

a year and a half later, she's gotten her diploma and i, my GED
we're both taking classes at the community college now
my end goal is art therapy
hers is undecided

i'm not comfortable in my own skin
i've been in the dark for most of my life, be it shadows or my own man-made perpetual nighttime
my sister has tried and is trying her hardest to look out for me
but i'm not some clay that needs to be molded into her perfect little box
i'm sharp edges and bony crevices to her soft welcoming shell
i am the dark to her light, the yang to her yin
and one of these days,
i'll be okay with that.
-
-z.z

This will land like focaccia,
Like the careless 'forgot ya'!

And a man will stand while staring in, through the coffee shop window, going off glossolalia.

The ebullient cashier trainee
remembers every name and mixes up almost all the orders
for coffee,

Cars are lined up for the drive-
through, their voices sound like
didjeridoos, in the ears covered
by single cyborg clip-ons

headset taking orders.

The ****** iconoclast, Street person, bows to the ground, hat off his head, as he prays to the cigarette holes he made in the EXIT sign outside,

his hat remains empty, as each car that whips up the wind that tumbles the receipts tossed egregiously at him, like leaves in the Fall,

While the cruciverbalist sits in the corner in the only soft seat, finger pecking her keyboard while stares at the line and sips her chai tea,

lagniappe of chocolate stashed,

away in her voluptuous bag,  the beleaguered barista has cups lined up over the transcendental horizon,

and she can't wait for her break
so she can eat with Olio Nuovo
olive oil, and Selection Artisan
ged balsamic vinegar, she brought
to dip, her focaccia bread in,
which she forgot almost,
on the counter at home.

The ocean moves like restless hands these days.  
Abrasive: rubbing cliffs to sand and dust,
their spirits crushed to foam. Alone too long
is what I think, Aegean fathers pull-
-ing back their sons. But myth is myth, I must
admit. Instead, the water beats the shore
for natural want, its swells and frothing tides
some violent children, asteroid-born, conceived
from outer orbit kisses. Moon-side, roar-
ing waves arise, as high as mountain peaks.
Their tensions break and churn up flotsam: jag-
-ged wood from ships reclaimed. My lips, too, crack
apart from frigid air. The blood is cop-
-per salt to taste. But salt still, none the less:
familiar sea foam flowing through my veins.
Genetic instinct winds me back to shrines,
the Greeks and Romans knowing more than we,
Poseidon having planted home alread-
-y thick upon their lips. Ensconced in coves,
Amalfi’s citrus piers had housed the songs
of sirens, trilling hymns to Venus. Her
divine softness, human-wrought: distilled
from strong eternal surf. I think it wants
her back again. And so it hurls itself
against the shore to beat our body’s blood
back into foam. My feet are cold atop
the rocks, the goose-flesh prickling needles deep
in skin. My head is past the precipice,
suspended at the point of no return.
My arms are tingling in the rain-drenched squall,
beginning to dissolve as salt is known
to do. I take a breath before the fall–
a retrograded Aphrodite’s sigh–
now flooded as the clifftop leaves my soles.

I didn't see ******* until I was too old for school
I graduated myself GED when I was twelve
went out to pasture early I was so cool
educated on the streets got literat-ed liberated delved
dabbled collaborated mixing drooling at
all the gangster easy money,  got rich,
had a bizness a box chevy with changing paint
twenties a banging ***** -
ain't never did what was good for me- ain't
feeling ****** now, cause I caught a nine mil', natch'

Things have really slowed way down. From dating, school, and running around
Working, sleeping, then home again-barley hang out with any friends
Being popular, being the best, being a leader, I’ve passed each test
Looking back now, I was going through a phase-
Just had to find my way through the maze.
Friends are still friends, just not as tight-the ones that are true are still alright
Growing up…alot of that I’ve done, dated boys and had my fun
Learned lessons, some harder than others. Made mistakes, made a few discovers
-Things got boring, school did too. Began GED to get me through
Working hours day after day; making money, putting some away
Striving hard to earn my wages- dealing with life and it’s many stages
Alone on weekends, & most week nights too-stay at home with nothing to do
Hoping that as time passes- & I finish my GED classes,-
Working harder at fulltime; saving every nickel and dime,
I’ll reach each goal I set, but if I don’t I won’t forget…..
-The sacrifices I have took, each harsh word or evil look
The smirks, the stares- words they say- Nothing I’ll allow to get in my way
I’m a fighter, I’ll give and take, remembering all and each mistake
The roads I’ve traveled and those I will…Which path I choose is out there still
-In time, I know I will decide; the road to take and path to guide
Decisions will be made by me, with no one else to disagree, 
Stir me wrong or lead me astray- the way I go will be my way
And time will come to leave the nest, decide on my own, for me what’s best
I’ll move out and soon move on…
Your little girl, now grown, has gone
-” Thank you” with all of my heart, Mom & Dad
For all the times together we had
Raising me, helping me grow, for telling me things you thought i should know
For being there, showing you care, and ALWAYS showing your love….
The little things you did for me, is what I’m speaking of
–Know I’ll always love you…&, that because of you-
I’m who I am today,- and the person that I will become….
Because you helped to “walk” me along the way-

He said nobody likes you

That's why your surrounded by so many people who have seen you at your worst but they love you anyways because nobody likes you

He said your a two faced *****

That's why people respect you because your honest so that's why your two faced

They said your a mistake

That's why you have life because your a mistake

They said your not talented

That's why you have over 1,000 poems written and a duffle bag full of notebooks in your closet because your not talented

She said you were fat

That's why the doctor tells you your a healthy weight because your fat

They said your smile is ugly

That's why your smile shines in all of your pictures because your smile is ugly

They said your a *****

That why you have only slept with 3 people in your 21 years of life because your a *****

They told you to go **** yourself

They can't stand seeing you happy, alive and well. That's why they want you to **** yourself

They said your ugly

That's why you get so many compliments because your ugly

They said your a waste of space

That's why the world is so big because your a waste of space

They said your getting nowhere in life

That's why your in GED classes and have a job because your getting nowhere in life

They say your a freak

Their ****** because you won't do what they say so that's why your a freak

They say no one will ever love you

That's why guys ask you out because no one will love you

They say your Mom hates you

That's why she's always buying you stuff and giving you hugs because she hates you

They talk **** all the time

It's nothing but LIES, LIES AND LIES and the proof is in our faces everyday

If only we spent more time taking in the proof instead of focusing on the lies.

It started with a bus stop poem
Damaged goods to be precise
She spoke of its words
His eyes on her
He's all she seems to see
      
Standing there                              
She reads black coffee kisses
The poem she once wrote
The week before        

People clap she speaks
"I am the girl they call broken"
They stair
"Damaged goods"
Eyes wonder around the room
Only stopping at him

She finishes
He looks at her
Hand reaching out
She misses

The night goes on
She stands shyly
Helplessly wondering
what people may think    

He tells her
"I'll bring you home"
They start walking
When things start to go wrong

She falls apart
Into tears
He speaks of how he feels
She doesn't want to hear it

"Do you love yourself" he asks
"I don't know" she replies
"Do you love yourself" she asks
"No" he replies

She tells him how she hated herself
How she has no friends
He listens to every bit she says
As she falls apart at every seem

He tells her
how he could never
be with a girl like her
How she has to much baggage

"You need to grow up" he says to her
"Get a job, your ged"
He tells her so much more

At the end they just stand there
Holding on to each other
She cries a little into his chest
Just standing there
Secretly wanting to give him
One last kiss

The term, people use it as a synonym for
Stupid
A failure
Well, maybe you shouldn't be so judgmental.

High school *****,
We all know that.
But when they make your life a living hell
And your best friend is expecting
What are you supposed to do?

It's not only students
But teachers who bully you.
Just because your friend got pregnant
Apparently you are all ***** now.

You couldn't handle it
Couldn't take it
It was doing serious damage to your psyche.
So Mom signs you out at sixteen
Contingent on the fact
That you get your GED.
Sounds fair to me.

But no, apparently because you're a drop out
And because you smoke
That makes your irresponsible
According to my parents
And my holier-than-thou high school "friends"
Who treat me like dirt

You are one of the most accepting people I know
You are beautiful, and have not had an easy life
You are more than what they tell you
You are more than a high school drop out.

the sky this night is
too far too dark,
away,
to be reached and drag-
ged down about
to cover
with some comfort
the bite, the deep bite.

the softness to be
heard as the voice
whispers on the wind
a song sweetly
too far to
be salve to
the bitter poison
in that bite.

cannot be dragged
from here as
weak and would wreak
havoc and too close
to what ills spill
and too far from
the good for what ails
the empty wind
and torn sails

with too far to sail
for the shore
for a quiet bay
for eyes that look
gently upon this salty face

too far out to sea,
never learned how to float
waves now hide the boat
...and the sharks are closing in

I sit and look at the ancient tree
some say it has a story.
knotty small trunk and twisted
limbs the same dark color.

I see small twigs, blacker still,
survived the winter's freezing.
At the tip of each fragile stick
bloomed a flower an a-ged color.

no attempt was made to catch the eye,
caring not so much for visits.
But a visit the flower did have that day
when I thought upon the blooming

they ivory white but underneath
a smoky colored brown
light yellow aged a hundred years
turned my mind around

I saw the tree shaped into
a large and handsome frame
twigs made dark keys upon the board
dogwood flowers made the same.

88 keys of flowers and twigs tied onto a string.
Spring breezes play across the limbs, a distant melody.
Soft is the willow leaf, bright is the yellow bell, but if
you close your eyes at  Spring what will the dogwood tell?